


Heroics

by hootyhoobuckaroo



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fire, Firefighter Bucky Barnes, Firefighter Steve Rogers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Identity Reveal, Mistaken Identity, Near Death Experiences, This shit is sweet as fuck, Y'all wont regret reading, it's real cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 01:10:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17012694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hootyhoobuckaroo/pseuds/hootyhoobuckaroo
Summary: Realistically, if Firefighter Bucky were to rescue you from a burning building, you wouldn't even realize it was him ...Picture this - when Bucky’s station gets the call and the truck is tearing down the street, to your office, the fire is already bad enough that it’s getting hard to see. Bucky does his job - does what his superior barks through the radio, but after he clears the first floor of civilians, he bolts up the stairs without prompting, searching for you in the haze.You on the other hand, you were fighting to keep your coworker conscious, all the while praying for someon to pry open the door and rescue you both ...





	Heroics

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for @bucky-plums-barnes on tumblr, who has wonderful themed fic days on her blog! She encouraged me to post this, so after a bit of a brush up, here it is! All the kind comments on tumblr really hyped me up haha
> 
> This is just my take on what would happen if Bucky Barnes, seasoned firefighter, got the call that your building was on fire. It's a race against the clock to rescue the love of this life, with all the skin-crawling fear and anixety that comes with these things. And a little bit of humor and romance.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading!

When Bucky’s station got the call, the oh so familiar address seared in his brain, he was already running to his locker for his gear. The truck tore down the street, to your office, where he could see the the fire was already bad enough that smoke was pouring out the window, dark as pitch. Bucky did his job - did what his superior barked through the radio, but after he cleared the first floor of civilians, helping them out the door two at a time, he bolted up the stairs without prompting, searching for you in the haze. He radioed for Steve to come up with him, for backup, after his friend had noted you weren’t in the evacuated crowd waiting outside. 

Meanwhile, you were huddled with a coworker by an open window, greedily sucking in the clean air. Your coworker was already looking fainter than you, clutching at her chest and mumbling something about asthma. You held her hand and waited for one of the firefighters to pry open the door.

You could almost hear Bucky telling you to stay away from a closed door with fire on the other side, that the metal doorknob would be screaming hot, far too hot to grab with your bare hand. The smoke was getting thicker now, rolling under the door.

You heard firefighters on the other side or the door - thank god. You screamed hoarsely that you’re in there, shouldering the weight of your coworker, throat clenched at the rattling cough she lets out. It’s already hard for you to breathe, shirt tucked over your nose to filter the fumes.

Two geared figures came bursting through the door, bringing in a roiling cloud of thick black smoke. The first one you headed towards, almost dropping the weight of the other girl into his arms. She’s unconscious, you realized faintly, when he hoisted her onto his shoulder in a textbook fireman’s carry. If you could choke in enough air, you’d yell that she has asthma, that they needed to tell that to the EMTs.

An arm hooked around your waist, and it took the world spinning for you to realize you were being picked up in a similar manner. Blankly, you remembered your work clothes - a gauzy blouse and a skirt - were no means to protect you from the flames licking along the walls.

It was getting hard to think, you realized that too. Hard to breathe the hot, angry air wafting through the building. You could taste the smoke. The air had been punched out of your lungs when you'd been heaved onto the man's shoulder, and at this point, you couldn't even find it in you to fight for that air back. 

The firefighter was carrying you through what you thought was the north hallway - you couldn’t even tell anymore with how dark the smoke had become. The air was so blistering hot. You wondered, faintly, if any of the firefighters here knew Bucky. If he’d told them you worked here. If he was even looking for you in the throng of people waiting outside.

Clean air, cold and crisp, scored your throat as you sucked it in. Your lungs protested, feeling torched on the inside. The rough straps of the firefighter’s gear dug into your exposed skin, and something hard was jutting into your ribs. From the way you were angled over his shoulder, you let your head loll as you coughed.

In the back of an ambulance, you spotted the coral pink of your coworker’ blazer. _At least she’s awake now_ , you thought numbly, watching as she sat on the back ledge of the ambulance, sucking in air through a clear plastic mask.

The firefighter set, you down and the world spun as you were on your own feet for the first time in what felt like hours, but was probably a minute? Two? It could’ve even been five, but each smoke-filled breath seemed to bleed into the next as you’d been carried limply through the building. Your knees gave once, twice, before you could find it in you to stand properly. Thank god for the adrenaline singing through your veins, even if you were numb to the way it ignited your fear. 

You stumbled away from the firefighter, arms held askew to recenter your balance. Everyone’s out now, you did a rough headcount of your coworkers. You and the other girl were the only ones on the top floor that night. No more firefighters were in the building, you hoped.

Barely registering the rough glove against your arm, you took a few shaky steps towards the half-dozen geared up men by the fire truck.

You couldn’t read the dispatch number, couldn’t tell, but you hoped Bucky was there somewhere. Had to tell him you were okay.

A firm hand on each forearm stopped you in your tracks, and you glanced back, only briefly, to see the firefighter’s head tilted towards the EMT, who was tending to the others.The reflection of the still-smoking building on the surface of his mask made your stomach knot. You couldn't find it in you to turn, reassure yourself that you were out now, that you were safe.

You’d inhaled a good amount of smoke - you could still feel it in the way each breath shuddered out of you, but you were determined to get to Bucky. The sound around you - voices, sirens, the dull roar of the fire being hosed out of existence - it was just a wash of noise. The firefighter bent down, as if to shout something through his mask, but you weren’t even listening. Straining against his grip, you craned your neck, twisting around to squint at the firefighters in the distance.

“Bucky!” you yelled - or tried to yell. It came out hoarse, weak, nothing at all like your voice, and the last syllable ended on a choked cough. You tilted your head back wearily, trying to find it in you to yell one more time.

 _Bucky_ could walk you over to the EMT, _Bucky_ could keep an eye on you while you sucked in clean air, _Bucky_ could make sure you were fine - you wrenched one hand out of the firefighter’s grasp, leaning dangerously towards the asphalt as you rasped out your boyfriend’s name again, just as brokenly as before.

You righted yourself, only to collide with a wall of man. The firefighter, he’d looped easily around in front of you, his large hands coming to brace your shoulders. You knew he was just doing his job - but he wasn’t the person you were looking for and it made your chest ache.

A gloved hand cupped your cheek, so intimate of a gesture that your head snapped to face him, halting all efforts to peek over his shoulder. You leaned out of his palm, disgusted, _angry_ , ready to give him a piece of your mind, only for another one of his hands to rest on the other side of your face.

He stooped, leveling his masked face with yours. The brim of his helmet just barely pressed into your forehead. One his of hands left your face, briefly so, long enough that he could tap the plastic mask shielding his face.

“Look right ‘ere,” came his voice, muffled by the layers of gear and the breathing apparatus connected to his oxygen tank. You dully registered the hiss the tank made between each of his breaths, the click as the air valve opened and shut.

Beneath the brim of the helmet, under the thick fireproof balaclava, and behind the mask, all you could make out were a pair of eyes.

Another _hiss_ of the oxygen tank.

“Just me in here.”

_Click. Hiss._

You shuddered out a cough, leaning against his chest, trying to find a way to loop your arms around his waist without bumping his oxygen tank. It was Bucky - Bucky who’d axed down the door, who’d hefted you over his shoulder and hauled ass through a burning building, who had to watch you gasp and cough hysterically, choking out his name.

The gear was warm to the touch, thick enough to alter the familiar lines of his body, but you pressed yourself to his front, nails sinking into his jacket.

_Click. Hiss._

“You’re okay now,” he said, voice still seeming so far away. One hand gently soothed at your back, came up to carefully stroke the back of your head. He gave you a few seconds more of safety, of sweet, heart-pumping bliss that could only be found in his arms, before peeling you off, herding you towards the ambulance before you could think to protest.

The EMT, a vaguely familiar face you recognized from potlucks at the station, gave you a quick examination, poking and prodding, rattling off a few quick questions to Bucky. It was new, hearing the edge in his voice as he bluntly rattled off the degree of your smoke inhalation, exposure time, and any other injuries you might have.

You numbly answered the EMT’s questions, eyes still locked on Bucky as the EMT fitted a mask over your head, monitoring your airflow for a minute. Once the EMT stepped back, unfolding a Mylar blanket to over your bare legs, Bucky strode forwards. After a beat, he dropped to his knees in front of you, where you sat legs dangling off the back of the truck.

His deft hands pulled the air regulator free from the mask, disconnecting with a dull _click_. His eyes were trained on yours as he unbuckled the helmet, shoved the balaclava down around his neck, and yanked free the plastic shielding his face.

“Sweet thing,” he said at last, resting a hand on your knee. “I ain’t ever gonna be glad knowing you were stuck in a burning building, but I’m sure as hell glad that I was there to get you out.”

You couldn’t really find the energy to say more, so you flicked the oxygen mask in irritation.

“ _I love you_ ,” you mouthed. “ _Thank you_.”

From where he knelt on the ground, he was a mountain of a man reduced to gravel, you could see it in the way his shoulders sloped downwards. Could hear it even, the way his breath stuttered leaving his mouth. You carded a trembling hand through his hair, letting his hands, gloves dusted in a layer of soot, gently fold over yours.

“I was so scared - when the call came in.” His Adam’s apple worked furiously. There was nothing more you could do than press your cold hands to his face, tuck loose strands of hair behind his ear.

“You musta been pretty scared too, huh.” He looked up at you, brows knitting. An errant curl was pasted to his cheek, still damp with sweat.

You shrugged weakly, letting out a raspy laugh. It hurt your throat enough to almost regret it, but you forced out the words “Not too scary.”

His brows, one smudged with soot, hiked up his forehead and he let out an incredulous laugh.

The coworker in the coral blouse had been led elsewhere, and Bucky got up, gently seating himself next to you. His eyes gave a cursory glance over the mask once more, as if he had to check for himself that the EMT had done it right.

“Course I’d started to think you’d hit your head or something when we got outside and you started screaming my name at all the guys over there,” he hooked a thumb back towards the grouped firefighters, “not even sparing me a second glance.”

You tried your best not to smile at the terrible hilarity of it. Pointing towards the gear he’d pulled off his head, you tapped on the mask by way of explanation, then shrugged.

He let out a barking laugh, teeth glinting in the night. You giggled too, trying hard not to as the soot still lingered in your breath. The air still tasted like fire.

“You’ve seen me in turnout gear before,” he ribbed. “How’s this any different? I’d at least hope you’d recognize the part of m’ face you can still see.” You sighed long and hard into the oxygen mask.

“Here I was thinking,” he continued with tease lacing his voice, “that ‘f I save my girl with heroics an’ all that, she’d at least look happy to see me.”

After mumbling something quick and low into his radio, he turned to you with a smile, beginning to methodically strip out of his gear.

“I’m happy,” you coughed, watching him peel off layer after layer. “Happy you’re here.” The knit of his brow told you he was irked you were still trying to talk after inhaling so much smoke, but the way he wrapped his arms around you said so much more. In just a thermal tee now, heat radiated off his body.

The Mylar blanket crinkled as he tucked you under his shoulder. “My hero,” you whispered up at him, once you’d found your breath.“Just doing my job,” he whispered back, but he held you just a little tighter. "Hero," you insisted, putting a hand over his chest, over his heart of gold.

**Author's Note:**

> Not too angsty I hope? 
> 
> Let me know what you think! Comments and kudos mean the world and more <3 I read and respond to everything. And if you like it, feel free to hit me up @hootyhoobuckaroo on tumblr with any requests you had in mind.


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